


Safety of Distance

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 17:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8455399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: Written for the VAMB Spring Fling 2010. My request from Cheshire:  A story with Janeway having to rescue someone from something. i.e. a prison, a crash, an arranged marriage, whatever. Would love to see both points of view, the rescuer as well as the rescuee. Can be farce or dark as can be.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to Kim J for the beta.

Kathryn stood in the centre of the command deck, hands on her hips and chin jutting stubbornly as she glared at the Kalardan aide on the viewscreen. Without breaking eye contact, she turned her head a fraction and gave a sharp nod.

Harry cut the transmission.

The instant the screen cleared, she hissed an expletive under her breath then looked up to meet the young ensign’s eyes.

He gave her a grim smile. “I couldn’t have said it better, Captain.”

“Hmmph…” Kathryn’s shoulders drooped and she huffed an infuriated breath. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she began pacing across the command deck. A headache was brewing.

It was just so damned exasperating.

Twelve frustrating and fruitless hours had passed since Chakotay, Tom and Jurot had gone missing and Kathryn still had no idea where they were or why they’d been taken.  All evidence pointed to the Kalardans – the inhabitants of the planet they were orbiting – but the authorities had thwarted their rescue efforts at every turn. Kathryn knew she was being stonewalled but no matter how hard she pushed, they wouldn’t give an inch.

The critical question was ‘why?’

There had been no ransom demand, no ultimatum and, although the government representatives had insisted that they knew nothing, Kathryn was no fool. Their caginess and evasiveness screamed of their involvement.

What was so baffling was that the whole situation made no sense.

The Kalardans were a warp capable society and technologically superior to Voyager in every way. The fact that there was nothing Kathryn could offer in return for their missing crew became the worrying core of her frustration.

* * *

The ruling council had made it abundantly clear from the outset that they had no interest in Voyager’s ‘arcane technology’ but they expressed some interest in meeting with its crew and were willing to offer supplies and resources to the visiting ship. Kathryn had been relieved and cautiously optimistic.

Although aloof and rather haughty, the inhabitants of the lush and mineral-rich planet had initially seemed curious about the strangers from the other side of the galaxy. The away team consisting of Kathryn, Chakotay, Tom, B’Elanna, several security officers and Ensign Jurot – her Betzoid empathic skills indispensable in first contact situations – had beamed down earlier that day and were welcomed by the Queen and members of the ruling council.

The meeting had seemed to be going well, although Ensign Jurot had reported that their hosts were virtually impossible to read. A small twinge of concern took up residence in the back of Kathryn’s mind but as always, they were desperate for supplies and were relying on the generosity of these strangers.

Each member of the away team was asked many questions about their work and leisure activities, but as the morning wore on, Kathryn noticed that the Kalardans grew increasingly bored with Voyager’s situation and its visiting representatives.

Slightly unnerved by their attitude and not wanting to outstay their welcome, Kathryn had presented the Ambassador with Voyager’s list of requirements. The diplomat passed it to the Queen, who casually scrutinised the list before offhandedly granting approval for the requested provisions – no negotiating or bargaining required; subsequently, the food and materials had been beamed to the ship almost immediately.

It was an unusual first contact but not the strangest one that Kathryn and her crew had experienced in their time in the Delta Quadrant. Their hosts’ ennui aside, it had gone off without a hitch; Voyager had her supplies and everyone seemed to be satisfied with the proceedings.

At the time, Kathryn had a fleeting thought that it was almost too good to be true and was now angry with herself for not being more vigilant and taking heed of that internal hum of warning – the hum that rarely led her astray.

Nothing in the Delta Quadrant was ever as simple as it seemed; they had learned that the hard way many times over the years.

It had all gone to hell when they’d beamed back to the ship after that initial meeting. Chakotay, Tom and Neema Jurot hadn’t materialised on the platform with the rest of the away team.

Kathryn’s first thought was that there’d been some sort of transporter glitch and while B’Elanna ran a quick diagnostic, she contacted the Kalardans to check if three missing crewmen were still at the beam-out site. They weren’t, so, while Harry and Tuvok scanned for their lifesigns, she and B’Elanna began pulling the transporter apart to try to find out what had gone wrong.

After two hours of checking and rechecking the system, they found nothing amiss. Still, there was no sign of their lost crewmen, on or around the planet.

The warning hum in the back of Kathryn’s mind had become a blaring siren and when they again contacted the planet, all her fears were realised. Instead of the haughty but agreeable hosts they’d initially encountered, they were given the run-around by a procession of uncommunicative and uncooperative minor bureaucrats.

From that moment forward, there was no doubt in Kathryn’s mind that the Kalardans had been responsible for the disappearance of her crewmembers. And trying to negotiate with the recalcitrant aliens was like banging one’s head against a brick wall. After several hours of fruitless bargaining she’d almost been at her wit’s end, ready to phaser the lot of them.

As tempting as that might have been, her options were sorely limited and she’d been well aware that any hostile actions might jeopardise the welfare of her missing crew. In the back of her mind, a gnawing suspicion ate away at her, that these particular members of the away team had been singled out for a reason, and if she could figure out what that reason was, it might lead the way to securing their release. She needed information, but the problem remained that none was forthcoming.

It was so maddening. She was a seasoned negotiator – diplomacy and strategic manoeuvring were her specialities – but she was making no headway at all and the longer the situation remained unresolved, the likelihood of a positive outcome grew dimmer.

Who was she kidding? She was worried sick about Chakotay and the others and couldn’t bear to think of what they might be suffering at the hands of these callous aliens. If anything happened to them, she’d never forgive herself.

During an earlier briefing, the Doctor had reluctantly suggested that perhaps the away team had already met their demise, but Kathryn refused to believe that was the case.

Before B’Elanna could launch herself across the table and tear the holographic physician limb from limb, Kathryn assured her, and the rest of the senior staff, that they were alive.

The Doctor had bluntly asked how she knew and her only answer was that she ‘just did’, and that until proven otherwise, they were all to consider this a rescue and retrieval mission.

She, of course, couldn’t tell anyone how or why she knew they were alive; only that it was a feeling – an instinct – one that she’d learned to trust over the years. Her intuition had rarely led her astray and for now it was the only thing she had to go on. Those same instincts were also telling her – loudly and very clearly – that she needed to get Chakotay, Tom and Jurot off the planet as soon as possible.

* * *

She was fast losing patience. The Kalardans refused to allow Voyager to scan further for their missing people – some trifling nonsense about their superior technology and the canon laws forbidding them to share it with less advanced species. The irony wasn’t lost on Kathryn, but as rigidly as she adhered to the Prime Directive, she’d never kidnapped anyone! The planetary Council were merely using the law to muddy the waters and as an excuse to prevent Voyager from finding their lost crewmates. The last communication was a case in point. If she could have reached through the viewscreen and throttled the lowly aide, she would have.

It was time to up the ante.

Sick and tired of being bullied, she turned to Tuvok and snapped, “That’s it, I’ve had enough. We’re going to scan every damned inch of that planet.” She spun around and addressed Harry. “I don’t care what laws we violate or who we offend; they’ve pushed us far enough. Find Chakotay, Tom and Neema. We need to get them back _now_! Send the sensor readouts to my Ready Room.” She swung around and glanced at Tuvok as she passed his console. “If they contact the ship, which I’m sure they will, you have my permission to tell them to go to hell. The Bridge is yours.”

Marching down the stairs, she disappeared through the doors, leaving the Bridge crew in stunned silence.

Harry met Tuvok’s stony stare but a slight frown marred the Vulcan’s forehead and it spoke loudly of his concern. Harry knew it was unlike the Captain to be so unrestrained in front of the crew. Her feelings for the Commander were common knowledge, as was her attachment to Tom and Neema – she was fiercely protective of all the crew – but she was usually more circumspect and rarely let her emotions so blatantly rule her actions.

But Harry understood her frustration. He could also tell that Tuvok was about to follow the Captain into her Ready Room to question her orders and point out the error in her logic.

He couldn’t let him do that, so before Tuvok could move, Harry initiated the scan and announced to no one in particular, “Scanning the capital and its surrounds.”

He’d had a bad feeling about this from the minute the away team had gone missing and was glad to at last be doing something constructive. He trusted the Captain implicitly and would back her all the way, even if it went against strict Starfleet protocols. He knew that she would do everything within her power to get Tom and the others home.

With his eyes glued to the readouts, he cursed quietly. He figured it wouldn’t take long for the Kalardans to react and he only made it to a count of three before the scans stopped penetrating the ionosphere and his console pinged with an incoming message.

“We’re being hailed.”

Tuvok made his way to the centre of the command deck. “On screen.”

The mealy-mouthed and chinless Ambassador Smurdo appeared and when he saw Tuvok, his lip curled disdainfully. “What is the meaning of this deliberate incursion into Kalardan space? Where is your captain? I insist on speaking with Janeway.”

Tuvok wore his most inscrutable look, blinked once and answered the Ambassador in a gratingly placating voice. “The Captain is otherwise engaged and unable to speak to you at present. I would be pleased to pass on a message for you, Ambassador.”

There was much puffing and harrumphing, and the Kalardan diplomat’s complexion deepened several shades as he blustered. “I will not speak to a lowly intermediary. Get me the Captain!”

“I am sorry, Ambassador; that is impossible at this juncture. I shall inform her that you requested her presence and she will respond to your inquiry as soon as she is able. Voyager out.”

Harry cut the connection, a grin splitting his face as he nodded admiringly towards the unflappable Vulcan. “Go, Tuvok.”

“Your congratulations may be premature, Mr. Kim. I have grave doubts that my ‘diplomacy’ is going to be accepted in the good grace in which it was intended.”

Almost before Tuvok had finished speaking, alarms sounded as a bolt of weapons fire came hurtling towards Voyager from the planet surface.

Harry yelled from his station. “Incoming weapons fire!”

Kathryn shot through the doors of the Ready Room and shouted, “Shields up!”

The ship rocked and she had to hang onto the railing to keep from being thrown to the deck while yelling over the ruckus, “Have you been upsetting our new friends, Mr. Tuvok?”

“It appears so, Captain. I do not think they appreciated my suggestions.”

She huffed derisively as she made her way to the front of the command deck. “No kidding.” Then with one hand on the railing, she studied the planet surface on the viewscreen. “What sort of weapon was that, Harry?”

“Some sort of energy pulse; it went straight through our port shields and destabilised the hull integrity from decks three through seven. It’s changed the actual atomic structure of the duranium. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Get repair crews down there and see what you can do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Mr. Baytart, let’s move a little further away from the planet, but keep us within transporter range. Keep your finger on the button and if there is another shot fired, do whatever you have to do in order get us out of harm’s way.”

The dark haired man at the helm, nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

Harry spoke up from Ops. “Captain, the weapon’s fire overloaded the sensor array. Scanners are offline.”

Kathryn pressed her lips together in annoyance – nothing seemed to be going their way. “Did you pick up anything before they were damaged?”

He shook his head. “Not much. As soon as they detected our scans, a planetary forcefield engaged and we couldn’t penetrate it. The few scans that got through showed no Human or Betazoid lifesigns.”

Kathryn turned towards her chair but then changed her mind and spun back towards the viewscreen. “They’re down there somewhere and it has something to do with that first contact.” She strode towards Tactical. “Tuvok, you took tricorder readings while we were on the planet. I’d like to see them, and any from the other members of the away team. Maybe if we put all the information together we’ll find out why they were taken. And once we know why, then perhaps we can work out where they’re being held and ultimately, how to get them out of there.”

Tuvok responded calmly. “I have reviewed all the information gathered and could find no correlation between the first contact and those particular crewmen, but it warrants another look.”

“Thank you, Tuvok. Send them through to my Ready Room as soon as you can.”

“Aye, Captain.”

“You have the Bridge.” Kathryn took one last look at the viewscreen before marching through the doors of her Ready Room.

* * *

Chakotay dragged his eyes open and tried to focus. He felt like hell. His head throbbed, his body ached and his limbs felt like lead. He blinked several times until his vision slowly cleared.

Well, he wasn’t on Voyager. He’d woken up feeling like this on more than one occasion, but his slow rise to consciousness usually involved the sounds and smells of Sickbay, the droning tones of the Doctor’s voice and the delightful visage of Kathryn’s concerned face hovering over him. There was no such visual balm this time, unless the back of Tom Paris’s head was your thing. He turned over and gritted his teeth while everything settled into place.

He checked for his combadge but no surprises there, it was missing. Taking a deep breath, he swung his legs over the edge of the low cot but couldn’t stifle a pain-filled groan. His head felt as though it weighed forty pounds and his skull was about to split open.

Dropping his head into his hands, he pressed the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. It didn’t really help and only served to redistribute the pain but, he thought cynically, any change was as good as a holiday. When the excruciating edge of discomfort finally eased, he took another deep breath, looked up and surveyed his surroundings. It was a small room with a single door, a latrine and sink in the corner, no windows and a bright light in the centre of the ceiling; basically it had all the cheery attributes of a prison cell.

He turned to check on Tom and then noticed that there was someone else beside him. Neema Jurot was tucked in front of Voyager’s pilot and both were still unconscious.

Chakotay nudged Tom. “Paris! Hey, Tom, wake up.” Moving as quickly as his aching body would allow, he leaned over and shook Jurot’s shoulder. “Ensign, wake up!”

A series of muffled groans and expletives accompanied the slow rousing of his cellmates.

Tom rolled over, his face scrunched in pain. “Holy shit! What the hell happened? It must have been one hell of a party. I don’t remember a thing, but this hangover’s mammoth.”

Chakotay was hard pressed not to smile as Tom realised who was wedged into him and suddenly jolted.

“Awww hell, Jurot, what are you…? Oh crap, B’Elanna’s going to kill me.”

Chakotay patted his shoulder. “Tom, we’ve been kidnapped.”

The pilot slumped back onto the bed. “Oh, thank god.”

Neema Jurot shot him a thunderous glare. “You’d rather be kidnapped than sleep with me. Gee, thanks, Paris.”

“Hey, no offense, Neema, but anything’s preferable to having to explain to B’Elanna that I’ve strayed. Really… you don’t want to see that.”

The ensign gave that a moment’s consideration and then nodded once. “You’re right. And besides, even dead drunk and comatose, there’s no way in hell I’d sleep with you.”

“Thanks, Neema. You’re a champ.”

“I try.”

Tom looked around their accommodations. “Do we know where we are – apart from inside this delightful box?”

Chakotay shook his head. “No but I’d hazard a guess that we’re still on Kalardan.”

“I knew there was something about those guys that I didn’t like. Any idea how long we’ve been here?”

“No, but probably only a few hours. I’m sure the Captain is negotiating our release.”

Neema Jurot staggered to her feet and leaned heavily against the wall. “Yeah, she’ll have us out of here in no time.”

Chakotay was about to agree when the door burst open. Three armed guards and Ambassador Smurdo entered the room.

The stocky Kalardan nodded towards Chakotay and before Voyager’s first officer could defend himself, he was grabbed by two of the guards and hustled from the cell. He struggled but to no avail.

Tom shot off the bed and launched himself at the Ambassador. “What the hell are you doing? Where are you taking him?!” His protests were met with the blunt end of a weapon to his middle, knocking the wind out of him and sending him to his knees.

Chakotay called over his shoulder just before the door slammed shut. “Stand down, Paris.”

Then there was silence.

Clambering to his feet, Tom rushed at the door but it was bolted shut again and there was nothing he could do.

“Damn it.” He thumped his fist against the barrier before turning around. While attempting to hide his concern, Tom gave Neema a grim smile. “If they dent him and the captain finds out, I wouldn’t want to be in those guys’ shoes.”

He was holding his ribs, and Neema helped him back to the cot and sat him down. She glanced over her shoulder at the door and nodded grimly. “They’ve got no idea what they’ve just done.”

* * *

As Kathryn ran her fingers through her hair, she was tempted to start tugging at it.  She’d gone over and over the scans and holo-images taken on the planet and was now at the hair pulling stage. So far nothing seemed out of the ordinary or suspicious.

It was time for a coffee. She’d been staring at the images on her console for over two hours without a break and she was exhausted. She was also very worried and mightily pissed off.

Tuvok had continued to harass the Kalardan authorities as he tried to find a way through the labyrinth of bureaucratic double-talk.  Despite the Vulcan’s continued assertions that Voyager would not leave without their full complement of crew, the Kalardans remained evasive and threatened to open fire again if the ship so much as blinked in their direction. Kathryn was stuck between a rock and a hard place; she couldn’t risk the ship, but she was determined to get her crewmen back.

“Coffee, black.” After lifting the cup from the replicator, she took a fortifying sip and stared out of the viewport at the seemingly innocuous planet spinning below. Her lost crew were down there and it was her responsibility to find them; she just wished she knew how.

This was the type of situation she hated the most. The swamping sense of helplessness and vulnerability were difficult to control and the unwanted self-doubt undermined her confidence in beating the odds. What she needed was Chakotay’s calm reassurance that she was doing was the right thing, but the Doctor’s suppositions kept gnawing away at her resolve. Perhaps he was right and it was already too late.

The thought of losing Chakotay was a constant dread living in the back of her mind – the mental equivalent of a pebble in her shoe. Not that Kathryn really _had him_ to lose in the first place, but he would know what she meant. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth at the thought, but just as quickly as it appeared, it faded as she realised how much she had taken him for granted? He was one of the few people in her life who truly understood her. They were best friends, closer than anyone else that she could think of. And she loved him. It was as simple and as complicated as that; so, to lose him would devastate her. She had to get him back – there was nothing else she could do.

With that thought in mind and invigorated by a renewed sense of determination, Kathryn turned back towards her desk, took her seat again and called up the tricorder information and images once more.

Focusing her thoughts, she carefully scrutinised each image. She was looking at the fifth one for the umpteenth time when something in the grainy background caught her eye. “Computer isolate and enlarge grid one-eight.” The monitor showed a woman speaking to Jurot and Kathryn had a vague recollection of that same woman speaking to Chakotay in another image. “Computer, isolate the alien female, apply facial recognition and search all images for a match.”

Twelve appeared on the screen and Kathryn sat back and exhaled. This mystery woman was the common denominator. She’d spoken to each member of the away team, but what set her apart from the rest of the Kalardan welcoming party was that she’d spoken to each crewmember alone and well away from the rest of the group.

An image of Kathryn and this woman was included in the computer’s results, but she only had a vague recollection of the conversation. The alien female was unremarkable to the point of being completely forgettable. There was something very off kilter about this. However, the last two images went some way to explaining her role. She was standing by the Queen, whispering in her ear, and both women’s eyes were fixed on something in the foreground. Kathryn had a chilling thought as to what that might have been.

The Ready Room doors chimed. “Come.”

“Captain, I think I have something.” B’Elanna strode straight up to the desk, the PADD in her hand extended towards Kathryn. “There’s a woman…”

“I’ve just noticed her, too.” She spun the monitor around so B’Elanna could see.

The Engineer nodded. “That’s her. I remember her asking about our medical facilities and doctors.”

Kathryn frowned. “Medical facilities? I wonder why?”

B’Elanna shook her head. “I have no idea but I was with Tom at the time. He mentioned that he was trained as a medic and she seemed very interested. I just thought that she was perhaps a healer, too, but maybe it does have something to do with why he was taken. We’ve been wracking our brains trying to find a connection.”

Running her hands through her hair, B’Elanna paced back and forth in front of Kathryn’s desk.

Kathryn recognised the gesture for its less professional nature and understood the young woman’s personal frustration all too well. “We’ll get them back, B’Elanna. I promise.”

She stopped and turned towards Kathryn, her eyes bright with resolve. “I’m ready when you say the word, Captain.”

Kathryn frowned as comprehension dawned.  “What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?”

“There’s something very ‘off’ about all of this and I _know_ that they’re in danger – real danger. Diplomacy hasn’t worked. It’s time to do something more… proactive. Ayala and I have been talking and we think we’ve found a way through their shields. It’s night on the planet now and we could beam in, find Tom and the others, and get out again before the Kalardans know anything about it.”

Kathryn’s frown deepened and she muttered quietly. “A black ops raid.”

“Captain?”

“It’s been a while…” Kathryn’s eyes narrowed as she stood slowly and turned towards the viewport. Then her head snapped back towards B’Elanna, determination written in the set of her jaw. “But you’re right.” She glanced at the chronometer then nodded. “Meet me in my quarters in ten minutes. Tell Ayala to come, too, but not a word to anyone else, understood?”

B’Elanna’s eyes lit up. “Yes, ma’am.”

Kathryn watched the woman all but run out the door.

Tuvok would not be pleased with her secrecy, but Kathryn consoled herself with the knowledge that if everything went to plan, he’d be none the wiser until the mission was over. Then, after they’d put several light years between Voyager and the planet, he could berate and admonish her as much as he liked. But as far as Kathryn was concerned, they’d tried everything else and this was the only option left open to them.

They _would_ get their crew back.

That was the general idea, anyway.

* * *

Kathryn stepped out of her Ready Room and looked towards Harry. “Anything Ensign?”

He shook his head. “Nothing new to report, Captain.”

She nodded wearily to Tuvok. “I’m going to my quarters.”

“Aye, Captain.” But as he spoke, he stepped forward, blocking her path.

Kathryn stopped and mentally braced herself. The man was uncannily intuitive but surely he couldn’t already know what she had planned. Keeping her face composed, she turned towards him with an eyebrow raised in question.

He lowered his voice. “Might I suggest that you take some time to rest, Captain. You have been on duty for over twenty-four hours. The rescue of the Commander and others will not be accomplished any more efficiently or effectively if you are exhausted.”

She could have kissed him for giving her the perfect alibi, but restrained herself. Instead she frowned and feigned annoyance. “I’m perfectly fine, Mr. Tuvok.”

“I beg to differ, Captain. You are extremely tired and, unlike Vulcans, you cannot forgo sleep for an indeterminate amount of time without your judgement becoming impaired.” He took a determined step forward and in a quiet voice that no one else could hear, pushed his point. “I will not hesitate to contact the Doctor if you refuse. Were the Commander here, he would also insist that you rest.” Kathryn couldn’t be sure but his expression seemed almost sympathetic.  For a Vulcan.

She scowled, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “He might, but he’d be a little more diplomatic about it.” She could see Tuvok was about to dig his heels in so she reluctantly acquiesced. “But I take your point.” Her shoulders slumped in feigned resignation. “All right. I’ll take a few hours to myself, but I want to be called the instant there is any change or news from the surface, understood?”

“Yes, Captain.” Kathryn could see the stubborn glint in his eye and knew that he planned on doing exactly the opposite, which meant that she and her rescue party had at least four hours before she’d be missed.

“Four hours, Mr. Tuvok. Not a moment longer.” She knew full well that he’d stretch that out to five hours if he thought he could get away with it.

“Yes, Captain.”

She turned away and took a step towards the turbo lift but then spun back around. “And thank you, Tuvok; the Bridge is yours.”

He gave her a brief nod and stepped back behind his console. “Rest well, Captain.”

* * *

Tom paced the confined space of the cell; six steps one way and six steps back. There was no way in hell that he could sit still so the constant rhythmic activity was soothing in its own way and kept him occupied. He hated being confined, especially when he didn’t know why, or what was in store for any of them; his history with prisons was not a happy one. He was also worried about Chakotay; he’d been gone for too long.

After the first officer had been escorted from the cell, Tom and Neema spent ages in a futile search for a way out. The walls were thick and the door was made out of some sort of heavy and impenetrable metal with no mechanisms or hinges. He was doing his best to remain positive about their situation but it was damned hard under the circumstances.

The artificial light made it impossible to gauge the time, but Tom guessed it was at least two hours since Chakotay had been taken, perhaps longer. The churning tension was difficult to keep under control but if there was one thing he’d learned in the Delta Quadrant, no matter how bad a situation might seem, there was always the potential for it to get a lot worse. So, with that in mind, he kept his head and waited for whatever was going to happen next.

Neema Jurot was sitting cross legged in the middle of the cot with her eyes closed. Tom figured she was meditating and was loath to interrupt her, but he was going nuts in the quiet and needed to talk to someone. By default, she was the only likely candidate.

“It’s okay, Tom, I’m not meditating. You can talk to me.”

“Damn it, Neema; I hate when you do that.”

She opened her eyes and smiled. “Hanging out with Betazoids has it’s pitfalls but don’t worry; you’re an open book. I don’t have to delve far to know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh, great. Now I’m going to have start editing my thoughts as well as what I say.”

She stood up and patted his arm as she walked to the door and pressed her ear against the cold metal. “I wouldn’t. It would spoil half the fun; besides, I know your secret.”

He gave her a worried look. “My secret?”

Neema smiled.  “Yep, I’m onto you.” She quirked her eyebrow. “I know you don’t want anyone to know, but you’re actually one of the good guys, Tom Paris.”

“Oh, please, Neema, don’t be nice to me, it just makes me feel worse.” His face relaxed though and he gave her a smile. There was something so calming about being in the presence of an empath and Neema exuded a much needed aura of serenity. He took a steadying breath and asked the question that had been preying on his mind. “Can you sense Chakotay, too?”

She shook her head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to do, but something is blocking my thoughts. I don’t know whether it’s the material in the walls and doors, or if there’s some sort of artificial interference. The Kalardan’s technology is so frighteningly superior to ours that I don’t even want to hazard a guess. They were almost impossible to read. I can usually pick up some feeling of intent with even the most bizarre species but I got nothing from the Kalardans, nothing at all.” She shrugged and gave Tom a sad smile. “I wish I could help, but we’ll just have to wait and see. I’m sorry.”

He huffed and returned the humourless smile. “It’s not your fault, Neema.  But if you can’t read through the interference, it probably means that Voyager won’t be able to pick up our biosigns either.” He paced across the room twice before halting, his frustration getting the better of him, and slamming his open palm against the door. “Damn it. Where is he?” He was angry with himself for not getting his hands on the Ambassador or at least one of the guards. If only he’d been able to grab a weapon, they might have had a fighting chance. But he’d been too slow, and now they were stuck here, twiddling their thumbs, their imaginations taking them down roads that neither of them wanted to venture.

“Don’t blame yourself, Tom. There was nothing you could do. The Captain will understand.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Just a little bit. Although, it’s hard to think of anything else; and I know how protective you are of her and her relationship with Chakotay. They’ll be okay, no matter what happens.”

“I hope so.”

“He loves her you know.”

Tom rolled his eyes and gave her a genuinely amused smile. “You don’t need be a Betazoid to see that. It’s written all over him.”

Neema grinned. “Yeah, he’s even more transparent than you are. Shall I let you in on a secret?”

His eyes widened with conspiratorial delight. “Hell, yes.”

“You have to promise me that you won’t say a word to anyone.”

“I promise.”

“I mean it, Tom. If it gets back to the Captain, she’ll know where it came from.”

He held up his hand, three fingers upright and his thumb and little finger folded across his palm. “Scout’s honour.”

“I have no idea what that means but I’m trusting you.”

He nodded.

“The Captain loves him, too.”

Tom nodded again expectantly. “And…?”

“That’s it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know. That’s been obvious since day one as well. I just wish they’d do something about it but she’s such a stickler for the rules and he’s so damned honourable. They’re idiots.”

She patted his shoulder. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I don’t want to think of what life would be like on board if we don’t get the big guy home.”

“She’s a strong woman. She’d survive.”

“Yeah, and that’s the worry. She’d become even more resilient and steely, and that won’t be good for anyone.”

“Well, I’m going to leave the Captain and Commander’s relationship counselling in your capable hands. I’m not buying into that one.”

“Hey, none of us are that brave – or stupid – but I still don’t want to contemplate a future without him by her side.”

Neema nodded but at the sound of the door opening, they both turned.

The same two guards who had taken Chakotay earlier were carrying his unconscious body between them. They tossed him onto the cot and then took their places on either side of the doorway. The Ambassador hovered at the threshold and both guards raised their weapons, one aimed at Tom and the other at Jurot.

Tom made a move towards Chakotay but Smurdo stopped him. “Leave him. He’s alive – for now.”

One of the guards motioned with his weapon for Tom to back away. He did so until he bumped against the far wall.

Smurdo tossed a small bag at Tom’s feet. “Perhaps you will find something in there to keep him that way but I wouldn’t take too long.”

Tom snatched the bag from the floor and as he did so, the guards grabbed Jurot.

She yelled, “ _Tom!!”_

 _“Neema!”_ He made a dash towards them but they were gone before he’d taken two steps.

Tom shouldered the door and bellowed but it was a useless action; as much as he wanted to batter it down, there was nothing he could do for Jurot and injuring himself would achieve nothing. Besides, he had Chakotay to attend to.

Trying not to think of what was happening to Neema; he emptied the contents of the bag onto the cot and quickly sorted through what he had. There was something that looked vaguely like an alien’s equivalent of a cortical monitor, a regenerator, a medical scanner and a hypo with several labelled vials – none of which he could read. He shook his head in dismay. What the hell was he supposed to do with them? Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the scanner and after quickly ascertaining that Chakotay was breathing and had no broken bones, he rolled him onto his back and took a more thorough reading.

There were some bumps and bruises on his arms and legs – evidence that he’d been restrained – but it was the results of his cerebral scan that had Tom worried. If he was reading the results correctly, it didn’t bode well. Something was interfering with the electrical impulses in Chakotay’s frontal and temporal cortices. Although the man was unconscious, some sections of his temporal lobe were hyper-stimulated – the synaptic pathways firing off all over the place. Treating this sort of neurological trauma was way beyond Tom’s level of expertise.

“God damn it, Chakotay. What the hell am I supposed to do? I’m likely to make it worse if I go fiddling around in there and then what am I going to tell the Captain?” He heaved a sigh and turned the scanner towards the vials in the hope that it would give him some idea of the contents and their effects.

One appeared to be a sedative and another was similar to a tri-ox compound. The third was some sort of anti-inflammatory and/or analgesic, while the fourth was anybody’s guess.

He closed his eyes for a moment and thought to himself that true to form, things had just gotten worse.

The big man’s body suddenly stiffened and the readings on the scanner went off the scale. Even though it didn’t read like one, Chakotay appeared to be having a seizure.  With no other option, Tom loaded up the sedative and gave the commander a small dose before attaching the cortical monitor to his neck and hoping for the best. The spasms stopped almost immediately and the readings from his damaged cerebral cortex seemed to settle. Tom heaved a sigh of relief.

Chakotay was out of danger for now, but Tom still had no idea what the hell was going on.

* * *

Kathryn pulled the black turtle-neck sweater over her head and tucked it into her black pants. She’d already retrieved her old ops vest from the back of her wardrobe and tossed it on the table before she tugged on her soft soled assault boots. It took her only a moment to tie her hair back into a short pony tail.

The door chimed. “Come.”

B’Elanna and Ayala stepped into her quarters and came to an abrupt stop. The door hissed shut behind them; it sounded loud in the silence that hung in the air between the crewmen and their captain.

B’Elanna was the first to speak. “Captain?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Lieutenant, this was your idea.”

“I thought you meant that Ayala and I would be going down… on our own. I had no idea that you…”

Ayala had moved over to the desk and interrupted B’Elanna as he pointed to Kathryn’s kit. “Your lucky tactical vest, Captain?”

She gave the Security officer a lopsided smile. “Yes, we’ve been through a few skirmishes together.”

He gave her a brief smile. “I lost mine on the Val Jean.”

Kathryn gave him a studied look then turned around and tossed him a bundle of clothing and gear. “Well, here’s a new one. I took the liberty of replicating you both a kit and I’ve got a selection of weapons here as well. Choose what you think you’ll need.”

Mike threw B’Elanna her bundle and without a word began to strip and redress in his black tactical gear. Kathryn didn’t bat an eyelid and turned to B’Elanna. “You’re welcome to use my bedroom.”

B’Elanna shook her head. “It’s okay, Captain. It’s not like Mike hasn’t seen it all before.”

With a nod, Kathryn shrugged into her vest and buckled it up. She strapped a holster to her upper thigh, shoved a small phaser and knife into the scabbard and slid another knife into a hidden sheath in her boot. Into the various pockets and compartments of her vest, she slipped a tricorder, small plasma charges, a laser drill, some lightsticks, transporter tags and a small medkit with painkillers and stimulants, and a scanner. Both B’Elanna and Mike did the same, mixing and matching weapons, explosives and tools. Kathryn handed both B’Elanna and Ayala a viridium patch.

“Stick those to your skin. If we get stuck down there, Voyager should be able to find us.”

As they blacked their faces, Kathryn gave them a rundown of the mission plan. “I’ve rigged the internal sensors to mimic our biosigns – it will look as though we’re asleep in our respective quarters. I’ve also masked the transporter signature and overwritten the logs. We’ll beam from here to the captain’s yacht and then, once you’ve isolated a break in the planetary shielding, we’ll beam down to the planet and begin our search.”

“Do you have any idea where they might be?”

Kathryn shook her head. She could see the flash of irritation in the Engineer’s eyes and answered with more certainty than she felt. “No, but that’s never stopped us before. It stands to reason that if the Queen is involved then she’ll keep the prisoners close at hand. I suggest that we start in and around the main complex and then work our way out from there. Keep your eyes on your tricorders and hopefully we’ll pick up their lifesigns. If not, take note of any void areas or dampening fields that might indicate shielded rooms or cells. We have a little over three and a half hours before Tuvok will come looking for me but I’m hoping that we’ll be back on board before he even knows that we’ve gone. Are you ready?”

She got brisk nods from both her compatriots and with a tap to the computer console, the transporter beam enveloped them. They almost instantly rematerialised in the yacht.

B’Elanna moved straight to the ops console. “I’m masking all energy outputs and scanning the forcefield for a break.” Her eyes narrowed as she concentrated on the readings. “There! It’s going to be tight but it’s the best I can do. Initiating transport.”

All three faded in a shimmer of blue.

* * *

For the last half an hour, Tom had been keeping a wary eye on his patient, hoping like hell that the hypo he’d given hadn’t caused any permanent harm. Much to his relief, Chakotay began to stir.

“Chakotay. Hey, wake up big guy. Can you hear me?”

He groaned. “Kathryn.”

“I’m afraid not. Come on, Commander, open your eyes.”

His lids fluttered open and he stared blearily ahead. “Kathryn!” Then his eyes honed in on Tom’s face. “Paris! What the fuck have you done to me?”

“Whoa, it wasn’t me; you can blame our friendly neighbourhood psychopathic aliens for that. How’s the head? Do you remember what they did to you?”

Chakotay began struggling to sit up but Tom held him down. “Hey, I’d stay where you are, for now. I don’t think your head will appreciate the change of altitude.”

All he got was a mumbled curse before Chakotay took a couple of deep breaths and slumped back onto the cot. He appeared agitated, which was hardly a surprise considering the degree of brain injury evident.

Suddenly he blurted. “She wanted to talk to him.”

“She? Which she? Talk to who?” Tom had the feeling that Chakotay was hallucinating.

Chakotay blinked several times before his face scrunched into a grimace of pain. He then he looked back up at Tom with a strange expression. His demeanour changed and he grinned. “Paris! It’s good to see you.”

Tom eyed him warily. “It’s good to see you too.” Picking up the scanner, he waved it over the injured man’s forehead and frowned. The erratic electrical misfiring had settled a bit, but the readings were still way off and he had no idea what to do about it or how the damage was going to manifest itself.

“Where’s Kathryn?”

“She’s back on Voyager, Commander. We were kidnapped. Don’t you remember?”

Chakotay looked pained and confused as he tried to recall recent events. “I need to see Kathryn but I have to perform the pakra for the queen.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Why can’t I remember?”

Tom gave his shoulder a pat. “Hey it’s okay; it’ll come back.”

Chakotay closed his eyes again and frowned in concentration. After a couple of moments, he looked up at Tom. “She wanted to speak to him.”

“Who?” The man still wasn’t making much sense.

“The queen, she wanted to speak to her husband.”

“And she needed you to do that. Don’t they have communicators here?”

“He’s dead.”

 _“What?!”_ This was making less and less sense.

“Her husband is dead but she needed to talk to him. He has something she needs, a key or … I can’t remember.” Chakotay thumped his forehead with the heel of his hand. “God, it’s all so fragmented.”

Tom pulled Chakotay’s hand away and spoke in a low calm voice. “She sounds insane.”

“She probably is but the machine kept hammering and hammering until I couldn’t think anymore.”

Tom blinked. “The machine?”

“I had to find him in the spirit world but it’s not like that and she wouldn’t listen.”

And then it dawned on Tom. _“The pakra – your vision quests?”_

“Yes. Yes, that’s it.” Chakotay took a deep breath and gave his head a bit of a shake. “The fog seems to be lifting a bit but I still feel like I’m looking over my own shoulder.” He seemed a lot calmer all of a sudden.

“They’ve done something to your the neurotransmitters in your brain; just take it slowly.”

“I don’t think ‘fast’ is in my repertoire just at the moment.” Chakotay closed his eyes again but continued talking. “I tried to explain that a vision quest isn’t a window into the afterlife but instead an artificially induced altered state of consciousness, but she wouldn’t be told.”

“How did they even know about it?”

“From questioning the crew; I know I spoke to a woman about it at the reception, but they misinterpreted the explanation and thought it was some sort of extrasensory or telepathic phenomena. They attached me to some sort of apparatus to probe and hyperstimulate the psychic centres of my brain to see if I could summon the dead king from the afterlife.”

Tom pointed towards Chakotay’s head. “No wonder it looked like a dog’s breakfast in there when you first came back.”

Chakotay smiled grimly. “Nice analogy.” Then he frowned and cast his eyes around the room. “Where’s Jurot?”

Tom was pleased to see something of the old Chakotay in his look and demeanour. It gave him hope that the damage wasn’t permanent.

“They took her. She’s Betazoid, so they probably think she’s capable of summoning ghosts as well. God, how can such smart people get it all so ass-backwards? And what the hell am I in here for? I hope they don’t expect me to channel the dead.”

“You’re here to patch us up when they break us.”

Tom’s shoulders slumped and he cursed silently. “Oh, that’s just terrific. I gather they didn’t consider the fact that I’m not a doctor and I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m more likely to kill you than they are.”

Chakotay flinched and grabbed his head. The pain only lasted a few seconds before he looked up and gave Tom a broad smile of encouragement. “Hey, you’ve done okay so far; don’t sweat it.”

Tom frowned worriedly and mumbled quietly, “Yeah, I’ll try not to.

The vacant look had returned and Chakotay’s left hand was twitching. Tom cursed quietly. That familiar bad feeling, the one that had already gotten worse, now took another nosedive. Something was very wrong. “Are you feeling okay, Commander?”

Chakotay smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’m feeling fine. In fact, I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I’m really looking forward to seeing Kathryn.”

Tom nodded as he picked up the scanner again. This labile emotional state was directly linked to the damage to his frontal lobe. “I’m sure she is too, Commander.

But before he could take another reading, the door burst open and Jurot’s inert body was dumped inside before it was slammed shut again.

Tom rushed to her side, scanned her quickly then lifted her onto the cot next to Chakotay.

She’d suffered the same injuries to her temporal and frontal lobes as Chakotay but the resulting damage for Neema was far more complicated and potentially dangerous. Tom didn’t have a clue what to do; the sensory areas of a Betazoid’s brain were infinitely more complex than that of a human’s and stood a real chance of being damaged irreparably.

Taking a deep breath, he looked to the heavens and sent a silent and heartfelt SOS out into the ether. They needed help _now_.

He was deeply concerned for the wellbeing of his cellmates and not a little afraid for himself. Whatever the Kalardans had attempted to do had failed, and that didn’t bode well for any of their immediate futures. As far as he could tell, there were two likely outcomes – either they would be sent back to Voyager with an accompanying apology or they would be disposed of. Tom had a pretty good idea which one of those two was the keeper.

But he was great believer in the power of positive thinking and refused to even contemplate the notion of not being rescued. He just hoped like hell that relief would come soon.

Neema groaned and in a slurred voice, began calling for someone called Rajik. She grew increasingly agitated and Tom hovered over her worriedly as she tossed and thrashed.

He mumbled quietly. “Damn it, Neema, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

He cast an anxious glance towards Chakotay. The big man frowned, his eyes dull with pain before the lids slowly fluttered shut and he sank into unconsciousness again.

Tom closed his eyes for a brief second and then pressed the sedative against Jurot’s throat. He matched the hypos hiss with one of his own and spoke quietly. “I’m sorry, Neema. It’s the best I can do.”

A teasing wash of warmth tickled at the edge of his mind and giving her hand a firm press, he nodded grimly. “Thank you.”

* * *

Kathryn, B’Elanna and Ayala materialised in a dark alleyway one street away from the governmental complex. They sank back into the shadows and while carefully shielding their tricorders, scanned in every direction, looking for anything that might point towards the whereabouts of their friends and crewmates.

Kathryn knew that they weren’t going to be easy to find. If the Kalardans went to the trouble of surrounding their planet in a forcefield, then it was guaranteed that their prisons and ‘hostage’ accommodations would be heavily shielded as well.

There was a light touch to her shoulder and she looked up.

Using his thumb, Mike jabbed behind him and whispered, “Under that part of the complex there’s a large void. I think it’s worth a look.”

She nodded and kept to the shadows as they moved along the side of the building looking for an access point. There were several small outlet pipes that opened higher along the wall but nothing that was big enough for them to use. However, around the next corner they hit pay dirt in the form of a window covered by a heavy grate just above street level. Acrid steam billowed from the opening and Kathryn assumed that it was some sort of exhaust from the complex’s heating or cooling system. The vapour was unpleasant but not toxic, so after dropping to her knees, she scanned the metal bars blocking their way.

They were composed of an alloy similar to aluminium and after adjusting her phaser to the appropriate setting, she signalled for B’Elanna and Mike to keep watch as she cut through the metal.

The bars melted like butter and within two minutes, they were dropping through the opening into a darkened room filled with boilers and other machines. The noise was deafening but welcome camouflage for their movements

They wove their way through a tangle of pipes, clanging machines and hissing junctions until they found a heavy metal door. Their tricorders were unable to read anything beyond the entranceway, so taking great care, they cut through the locks and pried the door open an inch to peer into the corridor. There was no one in sight coming from either direction but they were now faced with the dilemma of deciding which way to go.

Kathryn turned to her companions and whispered. “Any preference?”

Mike shook his head but B’Elanna pointed to the right. “Those pipes we saw probably indicate a row of rooms or cells.”

Kathryn gave a brusque nod. “It’s worth a try. Let’s go.”

Hugging the walls, they quickly made their way down the dimly lit corridor. As B’Elanna predicted, they found several prison cells, all empty.

It gave Kathryn hope, however, that they were on the right track, and that Chakotay and the others were somewhere in this maze.

Coming to junction, Kathryn lifted her hand to signal ‘halt’. She peered around the corner to check what lay ahead. It was another corridor and at the far end of the passageway, there was a lighted room – most likely a guard station. The door was half open and she could see shadows moving and flickering across the far wall.

Along one side of the corridor were several more cells, all with doors ajar, except one. If the gods were smiling, that would be where Chakotay and the others were being held. Now it was just a matter of getting to that door, opening it and rescuing their crew without being caught.

Simple.

She turned back to B’Elanna and Mike, and whispered, “The third door down. We have company but we’ll deal with them later.”

She nodded once and after checking again that the coast was clear, they slid around the corner and silently made their way to the closed door. While Kathryn and Mike stood poised to fight, B’Elanna made quick work of the lock. After pushing open the door, they came face to face with a very relieved Tom Paris.

Once inside, they left the door slightly ajar and Ayala flattened himself against the inside wall to keep watch through the narrow opening, his eyes riveted to the guard’s room.

B’Elanna hugged Tom but kept her voice low. “Are you okay?”

He smiled and reassured her. “I’m fine and, boy, am I glad to see you.”

Trying not to be distracted by the prone body of her first officer, Kathryn pulled the small medkit from her vest and handed it to Tom. “Report.”

Tom took the case and knelt beside the cot to rescan his patients and give the appropriate medications. “Neema’s in a bad way and Chakotay’s still not a hundred percent. They’ve been exposed to some sort of neurological experimentation and the damage is extensive. We really need to get them back to the ship.”

The urgency in Tom’s voice tugged at Kathryn’s heart but they couldn’t go anywhere just yet. “All in good time, Lieutenant.”

At the sound of her voice, Chakotay woke up and stared up at her. Kathryn met his gaze and for an instant she feared that he didn’t recognise her.  That concern was soon dispelled as he launched himself off the bed, wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss, full on her lips. He whispered passionately, “I knew you’d come.”

He then glanced at Neema before looking back at Kathryn, his eyes dark with concern. “We have to get out of here.”

Kathryn gently extricated herself from his embrace. He obviously wasn’t himself but there was no time to deal with that now. She smiled at him and reassuringly patted his shoulder. “That’s what we’re here to do, Commander. Are you able to walk?”

He nodded. “I’m fine, but there are guards.”

Kathryn guided him over to her chief engineer. “You stay with B’Elanna, Chakotay. Tom, are you able to carry Jurot?”

He nodded and bent down to slide his arms under the unconscious woman.

Kathryn addressed Ayala, “you’re with me, Lieutenant,” before turning back to B’Elanna and Tom. “Give us two minutes and then follow.”

They both nodded and Kathryn turned to leave, but Chakotay was blocking her path. “What are you doing, Kathryn?”

She looked into his eyes and saw the familiar and steady gaze of her first officer; it was fleeting however, and his eyes took on a fevered look of confusion as he reached for her. “Please don’t go. It’s dangerous out there.”

She rested her hand on his chest and reassured him. “It’s okay, Chakotay. Mike is coming with me and you’ll be right behind us. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced but she didn’t have time to argue. She gave him a smile before meeting the pilot’s eyes for a moment, her concern clearly evident.

Tom did his best to allay it. “We’ll be okay, Captain. Don’t worry.”

That was easier said than done.

She didn’t even want to think about terrifying prospect of Chakotay’s brain injury being permanent. She’d considered the possibility of his death but never anything like this. It made her more determined than ever to get the hell off this planet and away from these noxious bastards before they could do more harm.

Back to the job at hand, Kathryn checked the corridor and opened the door. After another quick look both ways, she gestured with a sharp jag of her head that Ayala should follow.

He fell in behind her as they slipped through the opening and made their way towards the guard’s station.

Once outside the door of the room, they flattened themselves against the wall and listened.

It was difficult to discern how many guards were present; the flickering shadows made it impossible to tell – there could be five or fifty. Pulling a small mirror from her vest pocket, Kathryn crouched down and extended it beyond the corner at floor level. In its reflection were three individuals, but she couldn’t see the entire room and there was every chance that there were more. They didn’t have time to wait and see, however. Every second they delayed increased their chance of discovery.

She turned to Ayala and used hand signals to relay the information about the number of guards and the mode of attack. She would take out the closest one first, and then the one on the left. He would take the farthest one on the right and any others that appeared. The element of surprise was on their side and if all went to plan, they should have the threat eliminated within eight to ten seconds. Hefting her phaser in her right hand, Kathryn set it for heavy stun before centering herself.

She took a deep breath, turned to Ayala, and on a finger count of three, launched herself into the room.

Tucking and rolling, Kathryn fired before righting herself and took out the first guard.

Ayala brought down the second and as the third tried to dive behind a console, Kathryn’s phaser caught him on the shoulder and his unconscious body dropped to the floor.  She took cover behind a small desk while Ayala crouched behind a cabinet on the opposite side of the room. Their eyes met across the narrow space and Kathryn gave him a nod.

It appeared that their attack had been so unexpected that none of the guards had been able to raise the alarm.  After a slow count of five, Ayala moved out into the room while she shuffled over to check on the unconscious Kalardans. Within a minute, they had them bound and gagged.

A computer console in the corner caught her attention and she moved towards it as Ayala headed back to the doorway and motioned for B’Elanna, Tom and their charges to approach.

Kathryn turned to see if the others were safe but as she did so, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. A Kalardan guard leapt towards her from the shadows.

It all happened so fast. A split second before she was hit, Kathryn jagged to the side to avoid him, but fell awkwardly. The bulky Kalardan landed on top of her, his hands wrapped tightly around her throat. Unable to breathe, she kicked and fought with all her might, pushing futilely against his iron grip. She was grappling for her knife when suddenly there was a roar and the crushing weight of the guard was gone; she lay there gasping for precious breath.

Scrambling to her feet, she looked up in time to see Chakotay slamming the guard several times against the wall, his hands wrapped tightly around the man’s throat. The alien was unconscious but Chakotay was like a man possessed, and although Kathryn was as mad as hell, she didn’t want the guard dead.

Still coughing, she shrugged Tom’s restraining hand from her shoulder and staggered towards Chakotay.

She placed her hand on the back of his shoulder and spoke soothingly. “Chakotay. Enough. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He stopped immediately and turned towards her. The guard’s body crumpled to the floor.

Her hand was still on his shoulder and she could feel frissons of tension shuddering through his body. Dark eyes, black with rage, gazed at her for several heartbeats.

Suddenly, his gaze softened and he whispered. “Kathryn?”

“Yes, Chakotay.”

He took her shoulders between his hands, and she thought for one moment he was going to pull her into an embrace but instead, he gripped her shoulders almost painfully tight and in a voice shaking with passion, intoned, “He was going to kill you.”

Kathryn nodded and smiled gently. “I know. But I’m okay; you stopped him.”

His eyes seared into hers and time seemed to slow.

Standing before her was her angry warrior, his devotion and fealty etched indelibly across his powerful features. Her eyes held his for several moments then he released his grip and slowly stepped away from her. They both inhaled deeply and time snapped back into place. He asked gently, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She held his gaze for a moment longer then turned to her team. Feeling a surge of renewed vigour, his trust and conviction imbuing her with a powerful sense of certainty, she knew they would get out of this.

“Okay, it’s time to go. B’Elanna, there’s some sort of control panel in the corner and there must be a way to drop the shielding around the prison. We can beam back to the yacht from here. Mike, guard that door. Tom, are you okay with Neema?”

Tom had laid the still unconscious woman on a small couch and was watching her carefully. He nodded. “Sure, Captain.”

B’Elanna rushed across to the console and quickly analysed the various controls. “You’re right, Captain. We can lower the shielding but the instant we do, the Kalardans are going to know that something’s up and I’ll need a minute or two to scan for a break in the forcefield. We’ll get company for sure.”

Ayala turned back to the group. “I’ll weld this door shut; that way there’s only one access point.”

Kathryn agreed. “Get it done, Mr. Ayala.”

Turning to Chakotay, Kathryn tossed him a phaser. “Watch my back, Commander.”

He nodded as she took off up the corridor.

Pulling several small plasma charges from her pockets, she placed them behind the doors of four of the cells before making her way back to the guard’s room.

By the time she returned, the door was welded shut and B’Elanna had readied the computer to lower the prison’s shields. Kathryn made sure that everyone was in place and then cued B’Elanna.

She hit the button, the shields dropped and at the same instant, sirens began to blare. They would have only moments to escape before reinforcements arrived.

Kathryn, with Chakotay on the other side of the doorway, watched the corridor and waited. She glanced over her shoulder to see Ayala taking position between B’Elanna and the far door, to protect her in case the Kalardans managed to break through. Tom was crouched in front of Neema, phaser raised in readiness. She turned back and met Chakotay’s eyes.

He gave her a small smile and whispered, “Thank you, Kathryn.”

She smiled but then her gaze returned to the corridor. She could hear troops coming. The sound got louder and all of a sudden a small unit of around ten Kalardan soldiers rounded the far corner.

With the plasma charge detonator in her hand, she watched and waited. The troops were almost three quarters of the way down the corridor when she pressed the button.

The bone rattling explosion blew the heavy doors of the cells into the corridor, taking down most of the soldiers. Chakotay fired into the melee, stunning the few who were still standing. But out of the smoke and debris, one of the soldiers managed to throw a grenade down the corridor. It rolled into the room and to her horror, Kathryn saw Chakotay reach for it.

At the same time, B’Elanna called over the noise. “Initiating transport.”

Kathryn grabbed him and shoved him further into the room. The tingle of the transporter began to take hold just as the grenade exploded.

The heat of the detonation seared her back and the pressure pushed her forward but just when she expected pain to explode across her back, she found herself falling into Chakotay’s arms on the yacht’s transporter pad.

With her heart hammering, she pulled away, did a quick head count, then tapped her combadge. “Janeway to Tuvok, we have the away team. _Get us out of here, now!_ ”

Barely before she’d finished speaking, she felt the ship drop into warp. There would be hell to pay for what she’d done and fronting up to Tuvok would be no picnic, but he was still following orders to her relief.

She tapped her combadge again. “Computer, six to transport to Sickbay.”

The Doctor stepped from his office and did a quick double take as he surveyed the curious assemblage of people crowding his Sickbay. But as Tom laid Jurot on the nearest biobed, he leapt into action. “Mr. Paris, you’ve bought company, I see.”

Kathryn led Chakotay over to one of the other biobeds as Tom brought the Doctor up to date on what had happened.

“The Kalardans used some sort of mind probe on both Chakotay and Jurot. The Queen had some crazy notion that she could contact her dead husband through Chakotay’s vision quest or by using Neema’s empathic abilities. Both showed signs of injury to the frontal and temporal cortices; the synaptic pathways have been interrupted and in some places, hyper-stimulated. Jurot has been unconscious the entire time but Chakotay was more disoriented and emotionally a bit off.”

The Doctor looked up and raised his eyebrow. “A ‘bit off’.”

“I don’t know, Doc; it’s hard to explain.”

“Obviously.”

Chakotay was reluctant to lie down. “I’m feeling fine now, Doctor. I’ll just rest in my quarters.”

The EMH swung around and pointed to the biobed. “Lie down, Commander. If your brain looks even vaguely like Ensign Jurot’s, you’re here for several hours, at least. There is some very delicate repair work that needs to be done.”

Chakotay complied reluctantly and Tom moved to his side to close the diagnostic arms over his middle and initiate a scan.

Kathryn dismissed B’Elanna and Ayala but stayed to hear the Doctor’s prognosis. He turned to her now and gave her a once over. “Captain, you’ve been busy, I see.”

Kathryn ignored the remark. “Your report, thank you, Doctor.”

“I’ll know more when I’ve done a thorough neuromolecular scan. I’m hesitant to give a prognosis at this point; however, I believe that I will be able to reverse the damage done by the Kalardans.”

Kathryn breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. Let me know the minute you complete your examination.”

The Doctor gave her a humourless smile and turned back to Jurot’s bed. Kathryn moved over to Chakotay’s side. “I’ll see you later, Commander. Now I have to go and face the music.”

He smiled knowingly. “Tuvok isn’t going to be pleased.”

A corner of her mouth quirked up. “No, but it was worth it. It’s good to have you back, Chakotay.”

“It’s good to be here. Thank you, Kathryn.”

She tried to resist the urge, her hand clenching at her side, but she couldn’t help herself and reached over to cup his cheek. “You’re welcome.”

She then turned and marched out of Sickbay.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Kathryn was shrugging out of her ops vest when her door chimed. “Come.”

She knew who it would be. “Tuvok, please come in.”

He inclined his head. “Captain.”

Kathryn had a moment of déjà vu, remembering all those years ago when he’d dressed her down in front of three admirals for failing to observe proper tactical procedures. It seemed to be a recurring theme. But before he could say anything, she held up her hand. “Tuvok, I know what you’re going to say and you’re absolutely right. I broke every rule in the book and possibly some we don’t even know about, but I refuse to make excuses. If I had my time over again, I’d do exactly the same thing. However, having said that, I will understand if you want to make a formal complaint and place a reprimand in my permanent record.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Captain, I…”

“But Tuvok, I want to make it perfectly clear that Lieutenants Torres and Ayala are not to be implicated in this. It was my decision and they were merely following orders.”

“Lieutenants Torres and Ayala have seen me and insist that it was _their_ idea and you only went along – in Lieutenant Ayala’s words – ‘ to keep them out of trouble’.”

Dear B’Elanna and Mike. Kathryn couldn’t help but smile. The day had been fraught with amazing highs and lows but the consternation written across Tuvok’s features was priceless and tickled her sense of humour.

However, she understood his predicament. “I really am sorry to have put you in this position, Tuvok, but I couldn’t tell you what we’d planned. Let’s just say that I was cognisant of the ethical dilemma it would generate and didn’t want to drag you into the quagmire. In the end, it worked out, we got our crewmen back, and they’ll hopefully make a full recovery.”

“The outcome was indeed satisfactory and I for one, am pleased to have the Commander, Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Jurot back on board, but Captain, I would like you to take a moment to question your motives. If it had not been the Commander at risk, I wonder if you would have so openly flaunted Starfleet rules and regulations.”

Kathryn’s hackles rose. “Are you questioning my impartiality, Mr. Tuvok?”

“Yes, I am, Captain.”

He was nothing if not frank but she was surprised and not a little annoyed that he would take it upon himself to so openly question her objectivity. “I would do the same for any of my crew.” His stony-faced visage was beginning to grate on Kathryn’s nerves and she felt the need to push her point. “I know you are aware that I consider the Commander my closest friend and you feel that this familiarity might influence my actions but I can assure you that, in this case, it did not.”

“Am I to assume then that there have been, or that you anticipate there might be in the future, times when your close relationship with the Commander _will_ influence your actions?”

She frowned. Vulcans and semantics – it was a match made in hell. Kathryn kept her cool and tried to gather her wits before ploughing on with her argument. She opened her mouth to deny his accusation but he forestalled her.

“I merely wish, Captain, to voice a suggestion. If you considered formalising your relationship with the Commander, you might in future avoid the accusation of impropriety and favouritism. A certain degree of partiality towards one’s spouse or bond partner is to be expected and although not wholly endorsed by Starfleet for commanding officers of a starship, marriage _is_ an accepted norm within human society. I estimate, in light our situation, that it could be considered a natural and inevitable outcome of your close command relationship and longstanding commitment to one another.”

Kathryn was completely floored. Had Tuvok just suggested that she and Chakotay should marry – that he thought it would be a good idea if Voyager’s command team entered into a relationship?

Was he insane?

“Tuvok… I… I… I don’t know what to say.”

“I am aware of your feelings for the Commander and his devotion to you – as is most of the crew.  From a purely logical perspective, your bonding would provide you both with a much more stable emotional foundation. You would waste less time avoiding the temptation of intimacy and redirect those energies to better benefit the ship and crew. From the resulting order of your personal lives, I predict that you both will make more efficient use of resources.”

Kathryn took umbrage at his implication. “The Commander and I devote every last ounce of our energies to the ship and crew.”

“I am aware of that, Captain, but without the renewing influence of a stable and vigorous personal life, that energy is finite. With many years of travel still ahead of us, you will one day – if I can use one of Mr. Paris’s colloquialisms – ‘run out of steam’. That eventuality is to be avoided at all costs.”

Still finding it difficult to wrap her head around this outrageous suggestion, Kathryn stared open mouthed at her Tactical officer. She was about to protest again but suddenly it all seemed so ridiculous. Everyone knew how she and Chakotay felt about one another. Their deep friendship and affection for one another had been the mainstay of Kathryn’s life for almost seven years and, as she’d said to him once many years ago, she couldn’t imagine a day without him. As always, Tuvok’s logic was impeccable and she was the last person to challenge that. At the glaring realisation of nearly losing him, all the arguments and excuses against being together and becoming lovers evaporated.

Looking up at Tuvok, a slow smile broke across her face. “You certainly are full of surprises, Commander.”

His right eyebrow rose a fraction. “I shall assume, Captain, that you are going to consider my suggestion.”

“Consider it considered, Tuvok.”

Her combadge chirped. _“Doctor to Captain Janeway.”_

“Yes, Doctor. How are your patients?”

_“Ensign Jurot is awake and recovering – but she will need several treatments before all the damage is healed. The Commander is fine and I have just released him to his quarters.”_

“Thank you, Doctor.”

_“All in a day’s work for an overtaxed and underappreciated EMH, Captain. Sickbay out.”_

Kathryn rolled her eyes but then smiled at her guest. “And thank you, too, Tuvok for your insights and support. I shall speak to the Commander in due course.”

Tuvok inclined his head. “If you wish, Captain, I could speak to him on your behalf.”

The mere thought of that conversation had Kathryn biting the inside of her cheek to stop from snorting and collapsing onto the floor in hysterics. She was saved, however, by the door chime.

“Thank you for offering, Tuvok, but I think I’ve got it covered. That’s probably the Commander now. Come.”

The door opened and sure enough, it was her first officer who, to her great relief, was looking none the worse for wear.

He glanced at Tuvok and then back at Kathryn. “I can come back later, Captain, if you’re busy?”

Tuvok turned and started towards the door. “I am just leaving, Commander. It is gratifying to see you well again.”

Chakotay nodded to the Vulcan as they passed one another. “Thanks, it’s good to be back.”

Tuvok turned to look at Kathryn and inclined his head. “Captain.”

He exited her quarters and the door slid shut behind him.

Chakotay turned towards her and smiled. “Are you suitably chastised?”

She grinned. “Sort of.”

“You’re still wearing your pips; that’s a good sign.”

“After my job, huh?”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Not for all the tea in China.”

“Speaking of which, would you like a cup?”

Chakotay smiled. “Thanks.”

“Take a seat. You’re feeling better now? You had me worried there for a while.” Kathryn moved to the replicator but glanced back at Chakotay as she waited for the requested beverages to appear.

Chakotay sank back into the couch. “Yes, I’ve been given a clean bill of health. All my neurons and synapses are firing off as expected, and Jurot’s on the mend as well.”

Kathryn passed him his tea and took a seat beside him. “I heard; the Doctor’s been in contact.” She took a sip of coffee and sighed as she relaxed back against the settee. “I’m glad that’s over.” She lifted her hand and pointed at Chakotay. “From now on, everyone’s a potential enemy until proven otherwise.”

Chakotay reached over and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. “No one could have guessed what they had in mind for us. I don’t remember much of what happened but I do remember my emotions and thoughts being all over the place. As if they were amplified or something – it was very strange.”

“From what I understand your erratic behaviour was a result of the damage to your frontal lobe. Do you remember anything more about the queen and what she wanted?”

Chakotay shook his head. “Not really. Only that she was desperate to contact her dead husband. I felt sorry for her at first, but her desperation had nothing to do with missing him. It was about something that she wanted. All I can remember is her asking me over and over again about a key.”

Kathryn smiled grimly but then shrugged. “I suppose we’ll never know but it was a close call.”

“Yes, but they didn’t count on ‘Action’ Janeway and her stealth-footed gang coming to our rescue.”

Her mouth twisted into a grin and she flexed her arm. “It’s good to know that the old girl’s still got it.”

Chakotay glanced sideways at her and laughed. “In spades, it seems.”

Kathryn took a sip of coffee to avoid commenting.

Changing the subject, Chakotay looked towards the door and then back at Kathryn. “So, what did Tuvok have to say? Were you in big trouble?”

“I thought I would be, but he was very understanding; although he did pip me on my lack of objectivity.”

“Lack of objectivity about what?”

“You, mainly.”

Chakotay’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“Yes, but he also suggested a solution.”

“Is it painful? Remember I’m just out of Sickbay, so be gentle.”

Kathryn chuckled. “I don’t think it’s painful, but it depends, I suppose.”

“Now you’ve got me worried.”

Kathryn took another fortifying sip of her coffee and continued before she lost her nerve. “He suggested that we formalise our relationship – marry or bond – so that in the future when our lives are in jeopardy and we dash off breaking all the rules and regs to rescue one another, Starfleet won’t be so cross.” Kathryn frowned then muttered, “Tuvok explained it much better than that. Maybe I should have let him talk to you after all.”

While she was rambling, Chakotay had turned towards her, his eyes wide with astonishment but with a delighted smile slowly breaking across his features as well. “Tuvok has turned matchmaker?” He shuffled forward and placed his cup on the table. “I love the idea. I love you, of course, but I’m really impressed with Tuvok.”

“Perhaps you’d like to marry him instead.”

Chakotay considered that for a moment, then shook his head. “Nah, he’s steady and dependable – all good qualities in a prospective spouse – but he’s already married, and I draw the line at bigamy.”

“A man with standards. I knew I made the right choice.”

Both were madly grinning at each other.

Chakotay reached forward and caressed Kathryn’s cheek. “I want to kiss you.”

“I think I’d like that; our second for the day.”

He reached over and took her mug, placing it next to his on the table, then cupped her face between his hands and gently pressed his lips to hers.

Pulling back, he smiled. “Our second kiss for the day? I don’t remember the first.”

“Just ask Tom, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to update you.”

Chakotay chuckled. “I bet he will.” He leaned forward and kissed her again. This time not so gently, and Kathryn moaned quietly into his mouth.

He pulled back, his eyes dark with passion and she felt her heart swell, a delicious pulse throbbing low in her belly. It felt wonderful yet strange to at last give in to the feelings that she’d fought so long and hard to subdue.

She knew what she wanted to do but as much as she would have liked to drag him into the bedroom and have her wanton way with him, she didn’t want to rush what was bound to be a most memorable first experience.

Biting her bottom lip, she stroked her hand down Chakotay’s whiskered cheek.

He grinned at her and she had the uncanny feeling that he could read her mind. A slow smile spread across her face and as her eyes met his, he quirked an eyebrow. Then he reached towards her face and ran his finger down her nose. He pulled it back and held it up towards her, grinning at her look of confusion.

“How about we get rid of the war paint and then go to bed?”

Kathryn had forgotten about the camouflage black all over her face and leapt to her feet, swiping at her cheeks and forehead. “Oh God, why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed. “I just did.”

She growled at him. “The most romantic moment of my life and I’m covered in black face paint. That’s just typical.”

He stood up and swept her into his arms. “If it all went perfectly to plan, we’d be wondering when it was all going to go belly up. Besides, I’m going to have a lot of fun finding and washing all the black smudges from your body.”

“You’re so helpful.”

“I know.” He grinned broadly and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on. Let’s have a bath. It’s celebration time and by sharing we’ll be saving water.”

Kathryn smiled slowly and shrugged slightly. “Tuvok will be pleased.”

Chakotay looked curious. “I know I probably shouldn’t ask but why will Tuvok be pleased that we’re bathing together?”

Taking his hand, Kathryn pulled Chakotay towards the bathroom. “Let me explain. It’s all about efficient use of resources…”

_fin_


End file.
